


Under the Skin

by TusinTak



Category: Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual dramarama, Blood Drinking, Consensual Non-Consent, F/F, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Lesbian Sex, Religious Conflict, Shameless Smut, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22526227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TusinTak/pseuds/TusinTak
Summary: The night at the convent re-imagined: Jonathan Harker is spared, and Sister Mira is taken back to the castle by Count Dracula instead. A bizarre love triangle/cat and mouse game ensues. Torn between her convent crush, Sister Agatha, and the dark seductive Count, Mira reconsiders everything she has ever valued (and gets some dynamite sex out of it, too).
Relationships: Agatha Van Helsing/Original Female Character, Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing, Dracula/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

He rose from the crumpled pile of wolf skin and fur, coated in blood and entrails that dripped and oozed down his body. His contorted form rose and grew until he stood tall, naked and menacing before the nuns of St Mary’s Convent. 

“I don’t know about you girls, but I do love a bit of fur” he quipped with a wry smile, his eyes dark with malice. His teeth were jagged and terrifying, and they flashed white at the promise of plump flesh and warm blood. The nuns were frozen in horror, averting their eyes from the depraved spectacle before them. 

Sister Agatha stepped forward, trying to subdue the dread which turned her stomach. 

“Count Dracula, you know as well as I do that you cannot enter an abode without an invitation!” she barked, and came to meet the vampire at the threshold to the convent. He stood before her, snarling and pacing, as she threw open the gates. The nuns tensed in unison, but the Count did not attempt to enter. 

Sister Agatha felt buoyed that her theory had been correct. 

“Go on then! You cannot enter without an invitation and not one of us would be stupid enough to invite you. Go on and skulk off into the darkness, back to the foul depths from whence you came.”

Dracula kept his dark eyes locked on Sister Agatha, before drawing himself up to his full height. 

“Sisters, please. Be reasonable. You know who I am here for. Bring me Jonathan Harker and I will leave tonight and never return” he declared proudly, arms wide in a faux-gesture of peace. 

“Absolutely not! You will leave here this evening and find your fun somewhere else. Mr Harker is not yours for the taking, not are these children of God” the nun retorted, gripping her stake tight in her hand. Mother Superior flashed a brief glance at Sister Agatha, the fear bright in her eyes. 

Count Dracula surveyed the scene, taking in the group of women standing in unison with their stakes outstretched. He sighed heavily; alas, it was going to take some good old-fashioned theatrics to break this stalemate. 

There was a small silence as the nuns stood together, keeping their eyes averted from the vampire as they huddled in a tense stand-off. Sister Agatha was beginning to feel that victory was finally within her grasp, before she heard a distant crashing and banging followed by eerie squeaking noises. 

“Alright, have it your way ladies! I can wait all night if necessary. All I need is for one of you to break” Dracula laughed, and with an almighty crash the windows exploded, raining a swarm of bats and broken glass upon the nuns. The women screamed, thrashing their arms as the bats bit and scratched in fury as they darted about. The stench of blood began to fill the air, and the vampire licked his lips in anticipation, feeling the bloodlust rise from the pit of his stomach as his teeth grew more pronounced. 

“Hold tight sisters! PLEASE! Stay together!” Sister Agatha bellowed, torn between defending herself and keeping a careful eye on the Count. He merely grinned at her with his craggy teeth, enjoying the game of cat and mouse. Eventually he would slaughter them all in glorious gore, and it would be truly worth the wait. 

One of the sisters stumbled forward as she feverishly swung her arms to swat away the bats, her vision blurred by quick black wings and tiny clawed feet. As she stumbled, one of her feet fell just past the threshold of the gates, and the Count seized the opportunity. He whipped forward to grab the nun and hold her tight against him, his long foul nails clenching her pale throat. 

“NNOOOOOO!!!!” Sister Agatha howled; her mouth agape as she locked eyes with the terrified nun. Sister Mira looked as if about to faint, as she felt the Count’s vice-like grip and his ragged breath at the side of her neck. She trembled as silent tears began to stream down her face. 

“Now, I do hate to repeat myself” – the Count snarled – “but I believe I asked for Mr Jonathan Harker!” as he gripped her tight. 

Sister Agatha was frozen in place, mesmerized by the terrible scene before her. She couldn’t lose Mira; she would sooner sacrifice herself at the gates of Hell before she lost her.  
“I – please”- she stuttered, her eyes darting between the Count and Mother Superior. The head nun stared back at Sister Agatha in sheer horror. 

Dracula leaned closer to Sister Mira as she wept, and breathed in the sweet smell of blood, tears, and pure fear. She would make a delicious meal indeed, and would be the perfect bait to ensure his ultimate victory over the sisters of St Mary’s Convent. 

“Well, I think that’s all the answer I need then, Sister” the Count smiled. The sisters drew a collective gasp of air, and Sister Agatha began to move slowly towards the gates.  
“I will return in two days’ time at sundown to collect Mr Harker. If he has been in any way harmed or killed, I can promise you that the lovely Sister here will be returning in even lovelier bloody pieces” the Count announced, and he disappeared into the cool evening air, taking Sister Mira with him. 

Sister Agatha collapsed to the ground, wailing as her fellow nuns embraced her. They wept for Mira, for poor Mr Harker who was battling the will to succumb to the darkness within him. The Devil had won that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to tempt you all with a taste of smut, I promise I'm getting to the good stuff! Anyway, enjoy some angsty Agatha. She's pissed and ready to cut a vamp.

The early morning sun trickled through the delicate curtains as Mira tucked a small lock of chestnut hair behind Agatha’s ear. She smiled gently, and kissed her forehead lightly. She wished she could pause this moment in time, as they lay together in the small single bed there in the convent dormitory, while their other sisters slept soundly. Agatha was still half asleep, smiling giddily as she snuggled closer to Mira, trying to breathe her into her very being.

It was moments like this one, in the morning or in the dead of night, that Mira wished her time with Agatha could stay unseen and perfect. How could any God wish to punish those who would love so purely? She desperately yearned to be free of her fear, to love Agatha without fear of restraint or obligation. 

“I think this is the quietest I’ve ever seen you” Mira whispered with a cheeky smile. 

Agatha narrowed her eyes and pulled Mira closer to her, nuzzling into her neck. 

“They say that silence is the language of God, my love… such a shame that I’m not yet fluent’ she whispered into the nape of her neck, playfully jabbing Mira in the side.

Mira gave a quiet chuckle before lifting Agatha’s chin to pull her into a deep kiss. Agatha ran her hands over her lover’s perfect form, her strong shoulders, her soft thighs, and kissed her deeper still. She had the softest lips she had ever kissed, not that she had many other kisses to compare it to, but they were truly heavenly. 

Her hand began to creep between Mira’s thighs, feeling the heat and relishing at the tiny gasp that slipped from Mira’s lips. Mira instinctively began to part her legs, when the two lovers suddenly froze as they heard bustling and muffled voices in the scullery area below. Mira immediately pulled away. 

“Quick! You must go back to your bed, they’ll be awake soon” Mira hissed, gathering the bed sheets around her. 

Agatha smiled a cheeky grin, popped a quick kiss on Mira’s nose and deftly slipped out of the sheets as she headed towards the washstand at the rear of the sleeping quarters. 

She snuck a momentary peek over her shoulder at Mira as she went, who had rolled over and gone back to sleep. 

In Agatha’s eyes, despite her distrust of the Lord and all he stood for, Mira was truly God’s greatest handiwork.

\-----------------------------------

“Sister Agatha? Are you awake?” – Sister Marguerite called softly from the doorway. 

Sister Agatha left her perfect dream and began to rouse slowly, her eyes puffy and sore from crying. 

It had been real after all, then. Mira was gone, Mr Harker remained condemned, and Agatha was adrift. Her eyes began to adjust to the soft gold glow of candlelight dancing across the walls of the dormitory, and realised that dawn was beginning to break. The time she had left to rescue her love was rapidly dwindling. 

The cellar door swung open abruptly, as Mina and Jonathan sat up in bed to observe Sister Agatha striding through the door. 

“Sister, are you al-“ Mina started, and Sister Agatha raised her hand to silence her. 

“One of our beloved sisters was stolen by the Devil himself last night. The only real connection I have to this monster’s desires, fears, and habits lies half-dead before me in this room.” Sister Agatha locked eyes with Jonathan, who lay in the arms of his soon-to-be wife. The events of the last week had clearly taken a severe toll on him. He was lucky that Mina had found him at all that night, nearly dead with a large stake through his chest. 

“If you wish to survive, Mr Harker, I suggest that you do everything in your power to help me understand Count Dracula. Tell me everything that you know, everything you can possibly remember, and perhaps we can save Sister Mira yet” she pleaded, her eyes bright with grief. 

Jonathan crumpled slightly. He felt defeated; he could barely hold himself upright. Mina instinctively pulled him closer to her, but he put a reassuring hand on her arm. 

“It pains me to say, Sister, but Sister Mira may have had her death warrant signed the minute Count Dracula took him with her back to that den of darkness and sin” he said in a soft voice, wishing with his entire soul that he could rescue Sister Mira from the Hell he had just escaped himself. 

Sister Agatha felt a flash of anger, but remembered the state that Mr Harker was in when he was brought to the doors of her convent that day; barely alive or coherent, scribbling away for days about his new master. She would not leave Sister Mira to the same fate. 

“If it’s all the same to you Mr Harker, I’d rather do everything in my power to save my sister. We look out for one another here; we have all taken the same vows and are sworn to serve God and to protect each other. Please help me, in any way you can. I beg you” she pleaded, kneeling before the bed. 

Jonathan looked at Mina, and back at Sister Agatha. He was not long for this earth; perhaps his last good deed could be to save Sister Mira and seek redemption.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one! We're finally getting to the much-hyped smutty goodness. For the keen beans among you, Ciprian Porumbescu is a 19th century Romanian composer. This is the ballad which helped to inspire the chapter - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsD4tCtbs_s hope you enjoy and please leave some kudos if you do!

Sister Mira woke up with a start, covered in sweat and shaking. She had been wavering in and out of sleep for most of the day, roused at times by the eerie sounds and distant howls which filled the castle.

Surely, this was Hell. A labyrinthian castle in the middle of nowhere, inhabited by a blood-drinking creature of the night and who knew what other horrors lived there too? She was at least grateful for the offer of a comfortable bed. Although, when did she get to bed? How did she make it back to the castle at all? 

Mira rubbed her temples, trying to piece together how she had been transported from the convent to suddenly arriving at Dracula’s castle. It was impossible. She ran her hands over the dark bedsheets and slowly lifted herself from the four-poster bed. 

She was quite weak, but still able to stand. She made her way over to the window slowly, parting the thick velvet drapes to stare out at the snow-covered forest. Was it too high up to successfully escape? It seemed unlikely but she had to get back to the convent, back to Agatha. Tears welled up deep within her as she thought of her love, how she wished she could be with her and away from this terrible place. 

As she swung the rusty window open, she could see that the sun was beginning to set. She could hear the distant sounds of wolves roaming the terrible woods. Her stomach became a pit, and when she looked down at the sheer drop below her into the river she nearly threw up. Closing the window once more, she made her way back to bed and balled up under the covers. 

She must have dozed off before she heard the distant sound of piano lilting through the corridors. Arising from the bed once more, she began to make her way down the grand spiral staircase. 

There, in the main living quarters, was her captor in his full demonic splendour. Sat at the large grand piano in the corner of the room, he played a gentle and lilting tune. His fingers paused when she reached the foot of the stairs, and Mira could see those awful long nails, the same ones that drove into her flesh the night that he- she closed her eyes shook the thought away from her at once, feeling ill.

He turned to face her with a broad smile, and rose from the piano. She had forgotten just how tall and imposing he was, especially with that long dark cape. He clasped his hands together with joy at the sight of his new plaything. 

“Mira. So glad that you could join me this fine evening. Would you care for some dinner? I wasn’t sure what you liked but I couldn’t bear the thought of you going hungry” he offered, and gestured to the long table beside him which was covered in an assortment of silver dishes and plates. 

‘No chance that a glutton like you could ever conceive of going hungry’ she thought briefly, but thought better than to say it aloud. 

“I’m fine, thank you very much” she replied curtly, and folded her arms tightly in a defensive pose. 

Dracula was intently studying her current stance, his dark eyes boring into hers, but turned back to the table.

“Some wine at least” he replied, pouring two glasses of deep red wine into crystal goblets. Dipping his finger into one of the glasses, he playfully sucked the wine from his finger while eyeing Mira. She was slightly taken aback, but more so disgusted by how the gesture kindled an oddly intriguing feeling deep within her. 

She accepted the glass of wine as he handed it to her, and they sat at the end of the table.

“No food, but you’d accept a glass of wine? Interesting, for a nun” the Count smirked, running his finger around the rim of his glass. 

Mira took a deep sip and loosened her arms. 

“We drink the sacramental wine during mass, what’s the difference? I would argue that it’s stranger still for a vampire to be drinking wine,” she replied. 

“Well, I don’t drink wine necessarily. But I can appreciate a good vintage, even more so when it’s being enjoyed by such a beautiful dinner guest” the Count smiled, and sat back in his chair languidly. 

Mira snorted into her wine. 

“So, is that how this happens? You ply my good favour with a glass of wine, you tell me how beautiful I am, and then you make me a bride of Satan? Is that what you were hoping for?” she snapped at the vampire, who seemed equal parts taken aback and intrigued by her response. 

“Your bravado is a far cry from the snivelling sister who I encountered just yesterday. Is it the wine? Or is it-“ he paused to take her in, and she shifted in her chair slightly, feeling uncomfortable. 

“No... You’re not scared of me, are you?” he asked, leaning forward with a curious look on his face. 

Mira wasn’t quite sure how to respond. She was, but to see the monster before her, trying to curry favour through the most transparent flirtation? It was almost laughable, but she valued her life too much to laugh in the face of the Devil. 

The vampire rose from his chair, and turned to walk away from the table. 

“Well-“ he called out from a distance- “I had anticipated that we would have a lovely evening together, and was planning to seal it with a gift”. 

The Count returned to the table, with a small black case in his arms. Mira’s skin prickled with goose bumps. She knew what was in that case, but how could he have known? Could he see inside her mind? 

He lifted the lid to reveal a small violin, made of beautiful maple wood. Mira let out a small gasp, and met Dracula’s gaze. He nodded towards the violin, as if giving her permission. 

She gently ran her fingers over the body of the instrument, the arch of the bridge and the delicate strings that ran to the top of the scroll. Her hands froze as she remembered where she was. 

“How could you- how did you know that I played the violin?” she stammered, her heart beginning to thump against her rib cage. 

In fact, it had been her mother who played the fiddle. When the day was done and the chores were complete, that they would sit down in their small farmhouse and her mother would play joyously while her father sang in his resonant baritone. She would dance about the room with her brother, so happy she thought would burst. When she was old enough, her mother taught her all of their old favourites, and gave her careful instruction until she too could fill the house with beautiful music. 

The memory was bittersweet, and she was filled with both joy and dread at the thought that this monster could have access to her most happy and private memories. Nonetheless, she lifted the violin from its case and picked up the bow. 

Dracula smiled. “What should we play?” 

“Know any Porumbescu?” 

He raised his eyebrows knowingly, and returned to sit at the piano once more. 

Dracula began to play a slow, mournful tune, and Mira immediately recognised it as one of Porumbescu’s classic ballads, one of her favourites. She took a brief moment to concentrate on remembering how the tune went, and began to match Dracula’s notes. 

They played in perfect harmony; her languid violin strokes rising and retreating in perfect step with his gentle piano. As the ballad began to pick up pace, she closed her eyes and began to play more vigorously, lost in her passion and the powerful haunting melody. She didn’t even notice that the piano had stopped, until she felt gentle hands caress her shoulders. Count Dracula placed a soft kiss on the nape of her neck, and slowly slid his hands down to her waist. 

“You are truly talented, Mira – it’s quite captivating” he spoke in a low sultry voice, his lips just brushing her ear. 

Mira inhaled sharply, and lifted the bow from the violin. Dracula continued to lavish her with soft kisses, his hands caressing her every curve. With one hand, he lifted the violin out of Mira’s hands and turned her to face him with the other. The bow clattered to the ground. 

She desperately wanted to resist, but her body felt drawn to him by some unknown force. Dracula pulled her into him and kissed her passionately, gripping her with a force reminiscent of that which had stolen her away just the night before. Mira responded in kind, kissing him deeply and with complete abandon. Dracula lifted her into his arms, bridal style, and began to carry her up the staircase while lavishing her with kisses as he went. 

The vampire carried her back to her bedroom, laying her gently onto the bed. Mira watched as Dracula crawled towards her, moving like a panther with slow grace and intent, until he came to hover just above her body. His dark eyes felt almost hypnotic. 

“Dearest Mira, I have dreamed of finding one like you for centuries” he breathed, peppering kisses along her jaw. Tonight, you are mine. I will make you mine, and mine alone. You will be my perfect bride”.

He kissed Mira deeper still, slowly unbuttoning the top of her dress to reveal her pale breasts, her nipples hardening in the cool air. Dracula continued to kiss and nibble along her throat, and Mira tensed as she felt the gentlest drag of teeth against her flesh. However, he continued to explore her body, moving down to brush her nipples with his lips and gentle licks of his tongue. 

Mira’s body relaxed into his attentions, gentle moans and sighs escaping her as he moved downwards while simultaneously sliding up her underskirt. She could feel his hot breath on her inner thighs but it made her flush with anticipation. In one swift movement, Dracula licked from her warm centre up to delicately circle her clit. Mira cried out in surprise, and the vampire held her firm against his mouth, his tongue exploring her idly, languidly. 

As Mira began to moan and writhe against the dark sheets of the bed, he quickened his pace slightly, moving his tongue faster. He teased her, circling around her clit and exploring the rest of her, occasionally turning to nibble and kiss her inner thighs. Slipping two fingers delicately within her, he began to thrust into her in time with the rhythm of his tongue against her clit. 

Mira’s breath quickened and she instinctively laced her hands into his dark locks, arching slightly to press against him. Dracula let out a low growl of approval, the vibrations of his voice only serving to appease her more. 

She could feel the climax begin to roll in from deep within her, waves of pleasure spreading out to her legs as her toes curled. Mira clamped her legs around Dracula’s shoulders as she came with complete abandon, screaming as the sweet oblivion took her over completely. 

With no time wasted, Dracula removed his shirt and pants, before shimmying Mira’s skirt from her hips to leave her completely exposed. Seeing him nude in the bedroom as opposed to standing bloody and terrifying at the gates of the convent was truly awe-inspiring. He stood before her like a tall, proud warrior, his muscles well defined beneath his alabaster skin. 

As her eyes travelled up to meet his, he once again knelt on the bed, and lifted her left leg high as he positioned himself before her entrance. Sliding into her all at once, he groaned and leaned forward while placing his weight onto his left arm. Mira felt her leg muscles stretched and taut, and melted into the sensations of feeling him drive deep inside of her. She felt barely in control of her body and yet had never felt more alive. 

He began to thrust into her at a steady pace, kissing her passionately as he went. He slid his hands up to her wrists to hold her tight against the mattress. Mira felt so secure, the weight of his body pressing against her as he claimed her with his lips. 

As their breathing began to quicken in tandem, so too did his movements – he shifted her legs so that they hooked in behind his thighs, and his hips started to slam into hers with relentless passion, driving his cock into her harder and harder. They embraced each other tightly, her nails digging into his back as she moaned louder. 

His hand snaked between their bodies and began to rub her clit, and Mira’s breath caught in her throat. The combination of his fingers caressing her clit, the rhythm of his cock thrusting deep within her, and the flutter of kisses along her jaw and neck sent her into complete bliss. She completely fell apart as she came for the second time that evening. She was only distantly aware of Dracula’s snarling and growling, and before she could come to her senses, she felt a flash of pain as he tore into her neck, and an explosion of white light clouded her vision. 

\---------------------------------------  
When Mira finally opened her eyes, she was blinded by the sunrise, glowing gold and pink hues. Her eyes started to adjust and she could hear the slow lapping of waves, and finally realised that she was sitting beside the sea. She felt Dracula’s arm around her waist, his head resting comfortably on her head. 

“Where are we?” 

“Constanța. One of the great jewels of the Black Sea coast.” 

Mira was in awe. The smell of the sea and the gentle breeze were delectable. 

“I’ve – I’ve never even seen the ocean before.”

Dracula smiled and gently kissed her lips, and Mira snuggled into his shoulder. 

“You’re drinking my blood, aren’t you?” she said quietly, as they stared out at the crystal blue waters. 

“Yes, my dearest.”

“Am I going to die? Is this the last thing I’ll see before I die?” 

He sighed and pulled her closer. 

“Not tonight, Mira. I’m not done with you yet.”

As the sun rose before them, she closed her eyes gently and settled into her lover’s shoulder, drifting into peaceful slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at chapter 4 - a little less smut and a lot more angst. That Catholic guilt can do a real number on you. Thanks to everyone who's been reading along so far, this is my first fic so it's great to see people enjoying it!

When Mira awoke the following day, Dracula was gone but she remained tangled in the sheets of her four-poster bed. The afternoon light played over the flagstones of her room. 

She had always been an early riser, working on a farm for most of her life had made sure of that. Sleeping in so late was an odd change of pace, but the exertions of the previous evening had clearly taken their toll. As she began to sit upright, she could feel her head spin. It all came flooding back; the violin, the seduction, and- as she rubbed her hand against the scarred side of her neck – Dracula feeding from her. 

She closed her eyes and sank back into pillow. A single evening with a vampire and she had become a person she didn’t even recognise – sleeping with a man, no, a monster, out of wedlock, cheating on Agatha, violating her sacred vows... Did it really take such little effort to throw her life away? 

Mira began to weep, laying on her side. Maybe Dracula would eventually kill her and she would answer to God. Either that or she would become a bride of Dracula, a blood sucking monstrous evil who stalked villages and killed little children. Neither option was particularly enticing. 

She opened her eyes and noticed a note on her bedside table. 

_Dearest Mira,  
The delicious memory of our time together last night will stay with me for many years to come.  
I’ve left some food for you in the dining room, and, should you wish to revisit our beautiful evening, your new violin as well.  
With much affection,  
D_

Mira looked around the rest of the room and noticed the familiar black violin case resting on the brocade armchair in the corner. There would not be much to do until the Count returned at sundown, and so she began to ease herself out of bed. 

It wasn’t until she stood up that she noticed the extent of her injuries. Outside of the wound on her neck, there were light bruises on her wrists from where Dracula had pinned her down. She lifted her skirt and noticed the dark bruising over her thighs. It dawned on her how close she had come to death last night. And yet, he had been so tender and loving all at the same time? It was impossible to reconcile.

She decided to take it slow, moving gingerly as she picked up the violin from its case. What her mother would think if she could see her now. 

Mira dealt with the sinking shame that formed a pit in her stomach by beginning to play some scales, before launching into a piece by George Enescu. She played and played, until her fingers felt nearly numb, but it did not distract from the dark anxious thoughts that haunted her mind. 

Wiping away her tears, she returned the violin to its case, and returned to her bedside. Dropping to her knees, Mira leant both elbows on the bed and clasped her hands together tightly as she began to pray. Perhaps God could forgive her weaknesses of the last few months. Unlikely, but it would heal her soul to repent of her sins. 

She became lost in prayer, quietly mouthing the words in rapid fire, before she heard a throat clear. She jumped and opened her eyes to see Dracula standing before her in the door frame, tall and imposing, his cape barely grazing the floor. 

“I would ask you to refrain from praying in my quarters ever again” he spoke in an even tone. He didn’t appear angry, just solemn. 

“I’m sorry- I just- please don’t-” Mira began, but the Count merely moved towards her and helped her to her feet. 

“How are you feeling?” he enquired, but Mira wasn’t quite sure how to answer. She wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or fear, it was impossible to trust the creature who stood before her. 

“I’m alright, I suppose” She responded, her eyes drifting to the window. Sundown; she must have lost track of how much time had passed.

Dracula studied her face; it was impossible to look away from his dark magnetic eyes. 

“You’ve not eaten, you seem scattered. Please, come downstairs with me to eat some food” he insisted. Mira struggled to remember when she had last eaten; the deprivation of the convent meant that she was less inclined to be a slave to her base instincts. Or, at least that used to be the case. 

She nodded quietly, and Dracula began to lead her downstairs, his hand at the small of her back. 

He pushed in her chair at the head of the long large dining table, an array of beautiful dishes before her. He served her a plate of roast meats and vegetables – who could have possibly cooked all of this food? Mira reflected back on Jonathan Harker’s account of his time at the castle, the phantom staff who never seemed to materialise and yet the castle was kept immaculate. 

Dracula sat at her side, poured them each a glass of wine and watched as Mira devoured her meal.

“Such an appetite. What could have possibly made you this ravenous?” he queried with a knowing smile. Mira glowered back at him, but continued to eat. He chuckled quietly, never taking his eyes off her. 

“How shall we make the most of our last evening together? More music perhaps? Or more of, uh-” he paused as Mira shot him another venomous look.

She finished her mouthful and placed her cutlery on the plate. 

“Never again. You stole away my virtue last night, and violated the sacred oath that I made to God. I feel so ashamed” she said in a severe voice, the slight wobble betraying how emotional she felt. 

Dracula mimed a shocked face, and put his hand over his chest in mock anguish. 

“My dearest, you wound me. I do believe there were two people doing the violating last night, were there not?” he retorted with a sly smile. Mira continued to stare at him, unable to fault his logic. 

“At no point was I told to stop or leave you be. By my own account, I believe we had quite the magical evening, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, but – it’s not that simple, I – the vows I took-” Mira began, but Dracula waved it away. 

“Bah, vows, oaths, it’s all complete nonsense... Tell me you didn’t feel as close to God as you did the moment I made you scream in complete bliss” he spoke in a low voice, taking her hands into his. 

Mira sat and stared down at her plate. He just knew. He was inside her, inside her body and her mind, and she had let him in. 

“Do you not realise how magnificent you are, Mira? What happened last night, it was not to violate you. It was a celebration of the work of the divine architect you worship so ardently. The way our bodies move, in perfect synchronicity, it’s the closest you or I could ever come to being the very embodiment of God consciousness.”

She looked up at him, and he caressed her jawline tenderly. 

“Let me worship you, Mira. Let me take care of you. You can be utterly mine, and I can be yours. All you have to do is let me in” he whispered, and leaned in to kiss her. Their faces pressed together, Mira gave the smallest of nods and kissed him back. It was impossible to resist him; he was like a force of nature. 

And so it was that they made love once more. Mira lay back on the bed as Dracula delicately undressed them both, and kissed her long and slow before easing into her to fill her completely. Mira tipped her head back and moaned, and he licked a trail of fire from her chin down to her collarbone. His hips set a steady rhythm, rocking in and out of her while their legs intertwined. 

Her fingers played over his shoulders and back, as he leaned forward to lavish kisses all over her breasts and neck. He slid his fingers over her belly until he reached her clit, delicately stroking in time with his thrusts until Mira felt the familiar swell of orgasm which rolled from within her. She cried out and ran her nails over his back as she hit her peak. He began to quicken his pace before coming not long after. 

He buried his forehead into the nape of her neck and the lovers began to drift off, still connected, limbs intertwined.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agatha finally makes it to Carfax Abbey, albeit under false pretences. Who would our Count be if not a double dealing greedy guts with a penchant for eating nuns? 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone reading, you are all fantastic and you make it worth every chapter.

Sister Agatha was sat at her desk, distracted by the soft orange glow of the sky as sundown approached. Tonight was the night he would return to claim Mr Harker as his bride, and Agatha found herself desperately praying for Mira’s safe return. Prayer had lost its power for Agatha, and yet it was all she could do to distract herself from the cacophony of questions running through her mind. Would Mira be different? Would she even return? What if he had turned her into a vampire? 

She was almost grateful for an interruption when the Mother Superior paused at the door frame and gave a small knock. 

“Sister Agatha? I believe we should run through our plans for the Count’s return. There can be no errors this time.” 

Agatha exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the poisonous guilt which hung heavy in her chest. 

“Of course. Please find the Harkers, and we can reconvene in the chapel.” 

Agatha rose and collected the bag of stakes and her notes as she went. No mistakes this time. Not one. 

When the Harkers arrived, they sat in a group clustered at the front of the chapel – Mina and Jonathan sat close together in the pew. It was as if Mina had vowed never to let him out of her sight again. Jonathan still looked pale and sickly, a walking corpse hovering between life and death. Mina cleared her throat and observed Agatha carefully. 

“Sister, what do you intend to do to stop this? I would rather not lose my fiancé a second time. Have you found a way to kill this beast?”

Sister Agatha studied the stake within her hand, running her fingers over the wood grain. She lamented that she had not yet found the perfect solution to destroy the monster. Even after speaking to Jonathan for many hours, he could not provide much more than what he had seen and what Agatha had read before. Sunlight, a stake to the heart, a strong aversion to the cross… Nothing seemed truly workable. 

“Well, I’m unsure of whether I could get close enough to the vampire to drive a stake through his heart, but please be assured Mrs Harker, your fiancé will not be returning with the Count this evening. I’ve decided to offer myself as a sacrifice.” 

There was a collective gasp from Mina and Jonathan, and the Mother Superior shot a panicked look at Agatha. 

“Sister, have you gone mad?? Why would you do such a thing?” 

Sister Agatha smiled weakly. “I deserve as much, I suppose.”

Mina looked as if her heart was breaking.

“You shouldn’t have to die because you couldn’t save her.”

“Well, that’s the useful thing about Catholic guilt, isn’t it, Mina? We torture ourselves on earth in the hope that we’ll be rewarded in death.”

Tears welled up in Agatha’s eyes, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. 

“I couldn’t – I couldn’t save Mira. I had the opportunity and I let her go. It stands to reason that I should go in her place so that she may live. I can’t think of a better solution than that and I’d rather not discuss it further.”

She stood abruptly and clutched the stakes to her chest. 

“I’m going to give these to the other sisters and let’s assemble at the gates. I will see to it that not one more soul shall suffer at the hands of that fiend.”

\--------------------------------------------------  
Once more, the nuns assembled in wait at the gates of the convent. Sister Agatha stood as if she were a general in a great battle, waiting to strike. 

From the shadows emerged the terrible beast himself, gripping Sister Mira tightly beside him. 

“Ah, the brave sisters of St Mary’s convent!” the Count declared with a broad smile. Mira looked pale and sickly, but alive. Thankfully. 

“Tell me, is my bride ready to join me once more?” 

Sister Agatha shot a look of pure fury at the vampire. No more mistakes.

“You will be leaving with a bride this evening Count Dracula, but it will not be Mr Harker or Sister Mira. Take me instead, and never return to this place.” 

The Count’s dark eyebrows shot up in a look of amusement and surprise. Mira looked like she might pass out completely. 

“A trade? Well, that’s certainly interesting” he mused to himself. “Now why would I be so inclined to trade one bride for another?” 

Sister Agatha felt disgusted, but knew that she had to sell the idea for it to truly succeed. 

“Why choose a man who is practically on death’s door when there is young supple flesh to be had? Something new, something fresh… How could you resist?” 

Sister Agatha met Mira’s eyes and she felt like crying. She couldn’t believe it had come to this. 

The Count was quiet as he considered Sister Agatha’s offer. Her heart was beating so urgently, almost painfully against her rib cage. The vampire’s smile grew broader as he showed his jagged teeth. 

“Ah, but I am a connoisseur after all. How could I turn down such an intriguing proposal, Sister?”

Still with a tight hold on Mira, he extended the other arm out in a welcoming gesture, and the nun began to walk towards him. 

“I’ll need you to drop the stake, however” he called out, and Sister Agatha froze. 

So, this was it then. No turning back this time. Sister Agatha raised her right arm, and dropped the stake to the ground. Count Dracula nodded in approval, and she continued her walk of damnation. 

She couldn’t bear to look back at her sisters, the women that she had built a community with here in this humble convent. She couldn’t bear to meet the eyes of her Mother Superior, the woman who had nurtured her studies and encouraged her to look further, learn more, and welcome the Lord into her heart. She felt as if she had let them all down with her foolishness, but she hoped that in trading her life for another, her sacrifice would be recognised when and if she made it to the heavenly gates. 

When she finally reached the Count, he smiled down at her fondly and it made her want to vomit. It was the closest she’d been to Mira in days, and it took all of her strength not to embrace her tightly. She sent a silent message to Mira, that she loved her and would never forget her. 

In a flash, Dracula snatched Agatha with incredible force. As if moving at lightspeed, they were borne back to the main quarters of Carfax Abbey. Upon release, Agatha and Mira were thrown forward, and Mira collapsed to the ground. Agatha immediately crouched beside an unresponsive Mira, holding her and caressing her back. She looked up angrily at the Count, who was delicately removing his cape and smoothing back his dark hair. 

“You said you would take me instead of Mira! What trickery is this??” she yelled, but Dracula merely turned and gave her a knowing smile.

“What possibly could have given you the impression that I’m a man of my word?” 

Agatha’s face glowered with dark fury. 

“Well, you must be mistaken. You are much less than a man.” 

For a moment, a flash of anger briefly passed over the Count’s face, but almost instantaneously he regained his composure. 

“Sister, it is most definitely you who is mistaken. I am so much more than a man, much more than a beast. Keep this up and I’ll show you exactly what I am. I promise you; you’ll beg for a swift death.” 

With that, he swept away to the spiral staircase and left Agatha and Mira there on the flagstones.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more bisexual dramarama for your day - I seriously love writing Agatha and Drac just sparring with words, I promise there's much more of that to come. And more of the sexy stuff too. 
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos! You guys are wonderful!

Agatha helped Mira over to the ancient brocade lounges in the main living quarters. She was still weak, but could sit upright at least. She stared at Agatha with a dejected look on her face. 

“Agatha, why? Why are you doing this?”

Agatha was still furious, but remembered that it was Mira she was talking to, not her captor. She paced steadily back and forth across the floor, trying to expend some of her nervous energy. 

“Well, believe me it was not my choice to have us both trapped in this labyrinthine pit of hell, but here we are. At the next chance I get I’ll find us a way out of here. The sun will be up soon.” 

Mira cradled her head in her hands, feeling her emotions well up from deep within. 

“I’m not… I’m not going. I can’t.” she spoke softly, wiping tears from her eyes. 

Agatha stopped in her tracks and whipped around to face Mira with complete astonishment. 

“What do you mean? Why can’t you leave?” she snapped. 

Mira breathed deeply and sat up straighter. She was not looking forward to this conversation but she had no other choice. 

“I can’t leave. What is there to go back to? After everything that’s happened there’s no way that I can possibly call myself a nun. I have nothing left, Agatha.”

“Surely you cannot be serious? You have me! You have your fellow sisters! Why wouldn’t you want to want to go back to the convent, back to the women who love you?” Agatha stopped short of saying who in particular loved her. 

“You said it yourself! Countless times even! That being at the convent was like being trapped in a loveless marriage, maintaining appearances for the sake of a roof over your head… Leading a pious life only has meaning if you give it meaning.”

Agatha’s mouth hung open in shock; she could hardly believe what Mira was saying. 

Mira took a shuddering breath and tried to steady herself. 

“There’s something else, too. Dracula, he… The first night I was here, we were together, and he took my- he fed from me” she stammered. 

“You let him feed from you?” she breathed incredulously. 

“I didn’t let him, he… He seduced me. We slept together and then he fed from me. I can’t remember if he’s done it since but I’ve had such vivid dreams and I fear that I’m becoming like him. I can feel him inside of me, moving through my veins, under my skin, infiltrating the deepest corners of my mind.”

Mira began to weep more openly, and Agatha faltered. She was filled with rage at what that monster had done to Mira, but she was also overcome with grief. There was no coming back from this. 

Agatha knelt before Mira and lay her head in her lap, clasping Mira’s legs tightly. Mira bent over Agatha and embraced her in return. They wept together, grieving for the former lives that they had now lost. 

“So… He’s turned you, then. I understand why you would be reluctant to return to the arms of God when the Devil has you in his clutches.” 

“You could still leave, you know. There is nothing dictating that you should stay here and be condemned as I am,” Mira murmured into Agatha’s hair, breathing in her delicate lavender scent. 

It broke her heart to say those words; she wished for nothing more than to go back in time to those quiet mornings in the dormitory with her love, secret caresses in the pews during mass, private liaisons in the confessional… It was all in the past now, there was no going back. 

Agatha, however, seemed fortified. She lifted her head and grasped Mira’s shoulders. 

“There is no way on this earth or in the next life that I would ever, _ever_ , leave you again, Mira. I give you my word, I swear it as my solemn oath. I will never leave you” she emphasised each word in a firm voice. 

She pulled Mira’s face towards her and kissed her fiercely, deeply, pouring all of her longing and affection of the past few days into her embrace. Mira relaxed into her kiss, but broke away as her head began to spin. She buried her face in the nape of Agatha’s neck. 

“What is it? Are you alright?” 

Mira rubbed her temples, cradling her head in her hands. 

“My head, it just feels so heavy. I think I need to rest.” 

Agatha helped Mira up to her bedroom, tucking her into the bed sheets and closing the thick drapes. She fell asleep almost immediately. _‘The sleep of the dead,’_ Agatha thought morosely, observing how pale and drawn her beloved had become. 

She shook away the tight feeling of grief and sadness in her chest and decided to make the most of her limited time alone. There was no telling when the Count would return, and she was going to find a viable escape if it killed her. 

Escaping via the grandiose front entrance would draw far too much attention, and Agatha was wary of the demon carriage driver Jonathan had mentioned in his account of his time at the castle. She instead set about wandering the intricate web of hallways and passages, forever returning to the main living quarters. Groaning aloud in frustration, she took turn after turn, circling back, trying to remember markers where she could but always returning to the same spot. She felt as if she were going mad. 

Finally, she pushed on one of the heavy doors at the end of a hallway and found that it led out to a little balcony. The night sky was beginning to dwindle, and she could see the stirrings of sunrise on the horizon, the delicate hues of orange, pink and indigo just beginning to seep into the mountainous landscape. 

Wandering to the edge of the balcony, she peered over with trepidation. Would it be possible to jump? Would the trees or the water break her fall? It didn’t seem like a viable escape route but it was all she had. 

“I wouldn’t jump, if I were you.”

Startled, Agatha turned to find Count Dracula standing in the doorway, arms folded, leaning against the frame with the hint of a smile playing across his face. 

“The only reason Mr Harker survived that fall was because he was a dead man walking to begin with.”

Agatha’s mouth opened and shut, processing his precise meaning. 

“What did you-how did-”

“You are standing in the very spot where Jonathan Harker chose to leap into the river than choose a life of everlasting power and glory. The only way he survived was by becoming a vampire just moments before he cleared the balcony’s edge. A shame really, he would’ve been such an interesting experiment.” 

Agatha felt sick to her stomach. The wake of the Count’s devastation was soaked in these castle walls, it was impossible to ignore. It had touched the lives of so many, and showed no signs of slowing. 

“Now, if you’d rather leave, I’d be quite happy to assist. I can snap both of your necks and have you sinking into that freezing river in mere seconds if you prefer. I’d rather get to know each other instead, wouldn’t you?” 

Agatha’s fear turned to ice cold anger running through her veins. She could feel the blood pounding in her ears. 

“So, which is it then? Are you going to kill me or make polite small talk? Neither option is particularly appealing” Agatha retorted, her arms akimbo. 

Dracula merely sighed, as if explaining a difficult concept to an unruly child. 

“Truth be told, Agatha, you and I are not so different. We value free inquiry, an open mind, and the pursuit of ideas for their own sake. Isn’t that enough to start? I can offer you the chance to learn more about the world than you could have ever dreamed of at that convent. More than that, you’ll be able to stay with the woman you love most on this earth.”

Agatha’s heart dropped into her stomach. 

“How could you possibly know that?” she said hoarsely. 

Dracula smirked, amused that he had successfully hit a nerve. 

“I heard it in Mira’s blood, it practically sang to me. The anguish and the passion you both feel is palpable. Delicious, even.” 

Agatha could only stare; she was speechless for the first time in her life. 

Dracula stepped towards her, and Agatha instinctively backed up against the balcony’s edge. He tentatively took her hands into his and studied her face. His dark eyes bore into hers, and it was impossible to look away. 

“Please. Stay with us. Mira needs you here.”

Agatha exhaled slowly. The possibility of more time to find a viable escape was tempting, but time was also ticking for Mira. She was not long for this mortal world, and Agatha had pledged her life to protect her. 

She closed her eyes wearily, feeling defeated, and gave the smallest of nods. 

Satisfied, Dracula lead Agatha back to the castle by the small of her back, swinging the heavy door shut behind them with a thud.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mira and Agatha finally get some alone time, and the Count plants the seed of desire with Agatha. I was thinking about the Witches of Eastwick as I wrote the second half of this chapter, inspired by the devilish Jack Nicholson and the different ways he plays to his lovers' desires to get them into bed. Alas, I digress. I hope you enjoy, it's been great fun writing thus far!

Agatha lay beside Mira in the colossal four poster bed, listening to her shallow breathing and watching her lover’s chest rise and fall in even tempo. 

Despite the dire circumstances, it felt right to be back with Mira again. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that they were back at the convent dormitory, side by side in those cramped beds. 

She snuggled in and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Mira roused in the late afternoon and rolled over to face Agatha, who was still dozing. Agatha smiled at her sleepily. 

“Well, hello there. It’s been a while.”

Mira placed a small kiss on Agatha’s nose, and went to open the drapes. The glare of the setting sun hurt her eyes, and she backed away from the window. 

“Come back to bed, it’s cold without you in it” Agatha murmured, and Mira slipped back under the bed sheets and rolled onto her side. 

Agatha snuggled closer and pulled Mira into her; her breasts pressed up against Mira’s back. Her right hand moved smoothly over Mira’s body as she nestled into her neck. She gently kissed the scars there, ghosting her lips over the tender skin. 

“Oh, how I’ve missed you my darling” she breathed, and continued her leisurely exploration of Mira’s form, passing over her breasts, her belly, before moving to stroke her inner thigh. Mira’s breath quickened as she became more aroused by Agatha’s soft caresses and her passionate words, and she spread her legs open instinctively. 

Agatha continued to whisper sweet nothings into Mira’s ear, in worship of her beauty, her skin, her smell, and how she had ached with longing for her touch. Her gentle caresses travelled further, tracing Mira’s inner thigh, her outer lips, dancing around the very spot where she ached to be touched. 

When Agatha finally brushed her clit, she gave an impromptu moan from the intensity of her arousal. Agatha dipped her fingers inside Mira and they returned wet and slippery, and she began to delicately circle Mira’s clit. Her fingers danced over Mira’s most intimate parts, driving her wild with desire as she inched closer and closer towards climax.

Mira leaned back to kiss Agatha passionately, and hooked her leg around Agatha’s to allow her better access. She moaned into Agatha’s kiss, and Agatha increased the speed of her fingers as they spread wildfire across her flesh. As the climax rose from deep within her, Mira came hard, keening into Agatha’s kisses, as she arched her back and jolted involuntarily. 

She fell back against the bed, breathing hard and covered in sweat. Agatha smiled down at her and peppered her shoulder with gentle kisses. They laid tangled together there in bed for a while longer, Agatha’s hand resting gently on Mira’s thigh. 

“He’ll be here soon; we should get dressed.” 

Agatha’s rose-coloured haze dissipated in an instant, feeling a pang of jealousy pass over her. 

“Of course – we wouldn’t want to keep the master of the house waiting” she replied sardonically, and slid away from Mira and hopped out of bed. 

“Agatha, please-” Mira called out after her, but Agatha was already on her way to draw a bath. 

\-------------------------------- 

When Agatha was finally bathed and dressed, she descended the grand staircase to find Mira seated at the piano, with the Count looming over her. He was teaching her how to play, guiding her hands with his long, tapered fingers. They laughed together, Mira leaning into the Count as his cheek brushed against hers. Once again, Agatha felt that same poisonous jealousy infecting her from within. 

Dracula looked up with a wolfish smile, and whispered something in Mira’s ear while maintaining eye contact with Agatha. Mira remained at the piano and the Count came to meet Agatha at the foot of the staircase. He threw his arms wide, and his long cape was eerily reminiscent of the wings of a bat. 

“Agatha! So glad you could join us this fine evening. Would you care for something to eat? Or a piano lesson perhaps?” the vampire queried in a deceptively affable tone. He turned back to wink at Mira, who beamed in return. Agatha felt just about ready to jump over the ledge into that freezing river. 

“No, thank you. I’m quite alright” she replied firmly. 

Dracula cocked his head slightly, studying Agatha’s face intently. 

“Would you allow me to show you something marvellous then? I promise it won’t take but a moment.” 

Agatha sighed, and looked over at Mira. 

“Please, go! I’ll be right here” Mira called out, looking much brighter than she had in days. 

Safe in the knowledge that Mira would be alright, she turned back to Dracula and opened her arm to motion him towards the staircase. 

Dracula navigated the endless passages with complete ease, before arriving at a large set of heavy double doors. He swung them open with ease, and extended a hand to Agatha. She brushed past him without a second glance, before she realised that she was standing in one of the most magnificent libraries she had ever laid eyes upon. 

A large oval room with vaulted ceilings that seemed to go on endlessly, the convent’s meagre collection of books could not even begin to compare to the rows and rows of volumes that lined the library. A spiral staircase in the middle lead to an entire second level of even more books. The room was dotted with ornate lounges and brightly burning candelabra sconces which threw a flickering golden light against the shelves. Agatha could only look on in wonderment, taking in the realms of possibility which were contained within this room. She moved towards one of the bookcases, and ran her fingers along the ancient spines as she began to browse. 

The doors closed with a gentle thud, and Agatha turned back towards the Count as he stood at the doors, watching her with interest.

“For many years I have filled this room with all that I ever wanted to know or learn. Now I can gift you the same.” 

Dracula approached Agatha, fixing her with those dark enigmatic eyes. 

He stopped just in front of her, tall and commanding, and Agatha’s heart began to race. Reaching over her head, he pulled out one of the books, and handed it to her. 

“This one would be a good place to start” he said in a low sultry voice, and handed the book to her, placing one hand over hers. He reached out to caress her cheek, idly tracing her neck and lingering over her collarbone with his fingers. 

“Exquisite” he breathed, and Agatha shivered in anticipation, her body betraying her mind which screamed at her to run. 

“Well, then. We should be getting back to your darling Mira now, shouldn’t we?” 

And with that, he swiftly exited the library, leaving a stunned Agatha in his wake.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just having a bit more fun with the Agatha/Dracula banter, albeit through the now undoubtedly overused chess scene. I promise that the fun stuff will be returning in the next chapter. Things will be starting to heat up at Carfax Abbey.

While Agatha was finishing her supper, Mira continued to tinker at the piano, playing short sections of lilting classical pieces and tentative scales. 

The Count swirled a glass of red wine absentmindedly, staring at Agatha as she ate. He tapped his long nails against the table. 

“A woman so astute and perceptive as yourself, Agatha, you must have learned how to play chess, surely?” 

Agatha drank deep from her wine glass. 

“Of course – my grandfather in Delft taught me how to play.” 

Dracula looked positively thrilled, and stood up abruptly from the table rubbing his hands with glee. “Wonderful! You must indulge me in a game, then” he proclaimed. 

Agatha stood up as well, folding her cloth napkin to place it on the table. 

“I’ve no interest in picking up the piano any time soon, so… lead the way.”

Dracula lead Agatha down the labyrinthian hallways once more, before they reached an alcove where a chess board was set up on a small stone table in the centre of the room.  
Agatha admired the ornate chess set, running her fingers over the carved wooden chess board while Dracula set up the stonecast pieces. 

“White or black?”

Agatha seated herself in front of the white chess pieces, and Dracula moved to push her chair in. Before he could reach her, she quickly pulled it in herself, and looked up at him with a self-satisfied grin. 

Dracula chuckled to himself as he took a seat opposite. 

“Always in charge, aren’t we?” 

She delicately picked up one of the pawns and moved it forward. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way” she replied, and grasped her hands together in anticipation. 

“How did one so bull-headed and independent even become a nun?” he queried, running his fingers across the board absentmindedly while keeping his eyes locked on Agatha.

“Convenience, I suppose. Now, please don’t think you can distract me from the game with mindless small talk,” she waved away his question and steepled her fingers as she stared at the board, plotting her strategy to topple the king. 

“Fine then. Let’s go a little deeper” he proposed, sliding a pawn across the board. 

“Very well… What is it that makes you so afraid of the cross? Are you the Devil incarnate, or just a dramatic atheist? It’s one of the few things I cannot comprehend about your kind,” Agatha pondered aloud, holding a bishop aloft as she considered her next move. 

Dracula sneered in reply. “You will excuse me for turning my back on the utter delinquency that is religion.”

Agatha continued to stare at him expectantly, and the Count rolled his eyes. 

“The cross is not a symbol of virtue and kindness, it’s a mark of horror and oppression. Your idiot church has terrorised the peasant population for centuries, and I have been imbibing the blood of those same peasants for so long that I have absorbed their fear of the cross… Or so my theory goes.” 

Agatha smirked, and folded her arms. 

“The corruptible nature of the men of the Church aside, I do think it is more than that. I think there is a supernatural evil to you that is completely unable to face the goodness and purity of God, or any religion for that matter.”

Dracula laughed softly to himself, and shifted his knight forward to intercept one of Agatha’s pawns. 

“Goodness and purity, I mean really, Agatha… Evil is a point of view. God kills indiscriminately, does he not? Rich, poor, young, old… No one is spared. There are no creatures under God like the vampire, and I am yet to meet any other creature so like him as I am.” 

Agatha scoffed; Dracula looked slightly miffed, but continued regardless. 

“My ultimate point, dear Agatha, is that the quality of one’s life is vastly improved, and no doubt yours will too, once you rid yourself of these useless doctrines and allow your unchained mind to follow its own path.”

Now it was Agatha’s turn to laugh. 

“Which path? The path of the vampire? One of murder, bloodshed and unfathomable brutality?” 

Dracula reached forward to caress Agatha’s wrist. 

“Not entirely. One of freedom. Freedom to dream, to learn, to explore. Together. Won’t you let me show you?”

Once again, Agatha found herself lost in those dark, hypnotic eyes. She felt as if he was searching her soul, begging to be let in, and she was trying so desperately to keep him out. It was somewhat difficult to fault the logic of his argument, however; leaving the convent for the first time in 15 years seemed to open up a realm of possibilities for Agatha. Vampirism was not particularly high on her list, but the chance to live relatively on her own terms and be together with Mira was a truly enticing prospect. 

What she was not sure of was what it meant to stay with a man, a monster in fact, like Count Dracula. Her father always used to say that you could never get something for nothing; she was quite sure that this arrangement would not come without its conditions.

Stranger still was the intriguing feeling stirring within her belly, as the Count’s hands gently caressed her own. It was a feeling she had not felt for many years, not since she was a young girl at least, and certainly not for anyone of the opposite sex. 

Dracula leaned towards her, tentatively at first, as though asking for permission. His lips brushed against hers and Agatha drew a sharp breath. His kiss was warm and soft and slow, which took her completely by surprise. His fingers threaded through her hair, and the passion of his kiss was enough to make her breathless. 

When they finally broke away, Agatha’s face flushed with embarrassment and arousal. 

Her eyes darted back down to the chessboard, and she quickly moved one of her chess pieces forward, blocking Dracula’s other pieces in a clear checkmate. She looked up at him with a triumphant grin. 

“You shouldn’t be so easily distracted by a woman, Count Dracula. I would expect better from a warlord.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's some more of the good stuff! Mira and Dracula finally get some alone time. Thank you for all of your lovely comments and kudos!

In an attempt to evade any future opportunities for the Count to corner and seduce her, Agatha buried herself in the library, devouring his vast selection of literature. 

Mira and Dracula were curled up beside the grandiose fireplace in the main living quarters. Dracula was reading an old book of poetry, while Mira idly traced his knees and thighs with her fingertips, distracted by the dancing flames in the hearth. 

Dracula snapped the book shut, and began to tenderly stroke Mira’s hair. 

“Shall we retire for the evening?” he murmured beside her ear, and Mira kissed him in acquiescence. 

They ascended the grand staircase to return to Mira’s room, where she immediately climbed into bed and nestled into the pillows, eyeing Dracula with a coquettish look. He stood at the foot of the bed and smiled down at her seductively. 

“It has been a while, hasn’t it my darling?”

“Indeed, it has. Why don’t you come and join me?” Mira offered, as she began to delicately unbutton her blouse. 

Dracula shed his own clothes with ease and knelt before her. Reaching for her skirt and petticoats, he tugged them over her hips to let them fall beside the bed. He did the same with the blouse, and then surged towards her on all fours, much like a predator seeking its prey. He pushed her firm against the bed and claimed her mouth with his, hungry and invading. Mira wrapped her arms and legs around him, eager for his skin, his touch, his scent. 

His hand threaded through her hair and pulled it back to expose her throat, ardently licking and kissing as his body pressed into hers. He let out a low growl beside her ear, which made Mira shiver in anticipation and sent blood rushing between her legs. Kissing and teasing his way down her body, she felt as if she might go insane with need. 

Dracula continued to lavish attention on her breasts with his mouth. Taking one hand, he began to travel downwards and slip it gently between Mira’s legs. He pressed two fingers deep inside her, and she let out a lascivious moan. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured against her skin, and his hot breath made her shiver. She wanted to drink him in, drown in him, become part of him. 

Coated in her arousal, he moved his fingers to her clit and began to make gentle circles. She cried out at the sensation, and he chuckled darkly as he teased her, varying his speed and pressure to make her almost frantic with desire, alternating with thrusting his fingers into her. Mira felt the climax building from within her, and her mewling cries spurred Dracula on to quicken his pace. His lips crashed into hers, and she cried out as the orgasm hit her with full force, her body convulsing and twitching in pure ecstasy. 

Dracula wasted no time in moving to cover her body with his, skin meeting skin from chest to thighs, as he placed his full weight on his forearms. Entwining his fingers into Mira’s long hair, he kept his hypnotic eyes locked onto her as he slowly entered her, stretching and filling her until his cock was completely buried within her. Mira closed her eyes and sighed with relief, and Dracula bent to kiss her passionately as his hips set a steady rhythm, rocking in and out of her. Her moans took on the rhythm of his thrusts, as though drawn from her lips by the impact of his body thrusting into hers. 

Quite suddenly, Dracula rolled them over so that Mira was sat on top of him. 

“Ready for a change of scenery, my love?” he purred against her ear, and Mira nodded breathlessly. 

Rising to her knees, she adjusted her position straddling his hips and lowered herself back down, enjoying the feeling of his full length within her. She tipped her head back languidly and began to move her hips up and down, alternating with small circles which seemed to delight him, his eyes closing as he moaned from deep within his chest. Dracula ran his long fingers up to grip her thighs, allowing Mira the full range of motion to move her hips even faster. He started thrusting upwards to meet her movements, driving her insane with arousal. 

She leant down to kiss him passionately, her breasts and long curly hair gently brushing against his chest, as she placed both hands on either side of his head. She felt his hand travel from her thigh towards her clit, and as he began to stimulate her both inside and out, she felt her climax inching closer and closer. Mira buried her forehead into his shoulder, her breath turning into ragged gasps. 

“It’s time” he growled, and flipped her back over as he began pumping his hips into her, faster still. He traced his thumb over her cheekbone, before cupping her head with his hand. His eyes locked into hers, and Mira saw the irises began to shift from deep brown to dark red, blazing like hellfire. His face was dark and terrifying, and his teeth grew jagged and more prominent, reminiscent of how he had looked that first night at the convent. Although Mira felt a flash of fear from within her, she knew that he would keep her safe. He was hers, and she was his. 

As if by instinct, Mira turned her head to the side as she felt herself edge over the brink of orgasm, and she clenched her eyes shut as she heard the familiar growling and snarling sound. Dracula tore into her neck with all the force of a great predator, blood spurting and gushing from her neck in a violent display. He gorged himself on her, the metallic smell and the warmth of her blood flowing through him to bring him over the edge with her. 

It was the most exquisite thing Mira had ever felt, like a white light which erased everything and left only pleasure behind it; Heaven and Hell all at once. She felt herself weakening, her breathing becoming shallow, and the white light was slowly replaced by the darkness which ebbed at her vision and threatened to take her down with it. 

Dracula could feel her heartbeat slowing and he pulled away, covered in blood and gore, snarling into the evening air. He gazed down upon her, his perfect bride, as she lay before him like a marble sculpture. 

He cradled her head with both hands, and stroked her hair fondly. With a swift and sickening crack, he snapped her vertebrae cleanly and Mira was dead.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, things are starting to get interesting at Carfax Abbey! Apologies for the delay in getting this chapter up, the world has become a lot more upsetting these past few weeks... I hope you're all keeping safe indoors, washing hands, and being kind to each other. We'll get through this.

Darkness. Slight tremors rocked the earth, as if an earthquake trembled below her. She could sense electricity in the soil, lightening perhaps? It was as if she were a child again, watching a storm roll in from beyond the mountains, as the lightening crackled against the hilltops. With a jolt, the electricity ran down her arms. Her legs twitched abruptly, as if they did not belong to her. 

Convulsions wracked her body, her insides twisting and reassembling. She arched her back in agony, feeling as if she were a marionette controlled by forces outside of her conscious mind. Her mouth fell open in anguish, and she began to scream, writhing back and forth. If this was death then she wanted it to be done. Let her die; she’d had enough. 

Dracula sat back in the winged armchair, watching intently as Mira was reborn. He could barely remember how it had felt back then, how much pain he had been in, but he was intrigued by the realm of possibilities before him. They all started the same way; the convulsions, the screaming, begging for death… What could not be predicted was the kind of vampire that would emerge. Would she become a fierce and learned killer like himself? Or would she become like so many others before her? A blundering, murderous animal who was only fit to be slaughtered? The constant trial and error was becoming tiresome, he mused. Eventually, Mira stopped thrashing, and she opened her eyes. 

“Good evening, my majestic creature. Look how perfect you are.” 

Mira rolled her head to the side, and stared blankly at the Count.

“Am I dead?”

“Yes, and no. Can you sit up?”

Mira eased herself upward, feeling surprisingly stronger than she had in days. She raised her hand to her cheek and felt the dried blood at the side of her mouth. As she sat up, the sensory overload hit her in full force, and she was overwhelmed by the cacophony of sensations. She could feel the heat of the candelabras on the wall, feel every single fibre of the bed sheets, and heard bugs and spiders crawling through the earth beneath the castle. She could feel the sounds ringing through every inch of her body, and it was almost physically painful. She wanted to switch it off, and clenched her eyes shut as she covered her ears.

“Oh, I know my darling, I understand. It can be a lot to process” Dracula crooned, rising from the armchair to embrace Mira. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” he offered, and Mira nodded with her eyes still closed. 

Dracula drew her a bath, and helped her to ease into the perfumed water. With gentle motions, he began to sponge her clean, taking great pains to clean her neck and chest of the blood which had dried there. He ran his hands through her hair and massaged gently. Mira concentrated on the rhythm of his touch, and finally felt herself relax. 

“Already so much better. I have much to teach you, my precious love. You are the first to survive the transformation, aside from Johnny of course” Dracula explained proudly. 

Mira was quiet, distracted by her body which didn’t feel quite hers anymore. She took a breath in and out, but noticed that she had no real need for another. Her lungs had become purely ornamental. 

“I died… I’m dead. But there’s no afterlife, no heaven, no God… just… this,” Mira reasoned slowly, her eyes brimming with tears. 

Dracula scoffed, and beckoned Mira to get out of the large tub. 

“None of those things matter, Mira. This is so much more than death. What I have given you is the gift of immortality, of eternal life. This night will stretch into a hundred more nights, thousands even, under which we will roam and feast and love. Together, we can drink in everything the world has to offer.”

He stood before her and wrapped her up in a large fluffy towel, rubbing her shoulders as if attempting to wake her from her stupor. 

“Do you know how few vampires have the stamina for immortality? How many have come before you and failed? You are so strong and beautiful, filled with introspection. So far advanced for your years. I have great hopes for you, Mira” he spoke in a low voice, and pulled her in to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Are you feeling better?” 

“Somewhat… I just feel so strange. Like I woke up in an entirely different body.” 

Dracula held her tightly under his arm, and walked her back to the bedroom. 

“Completely understandable. Sunrise is approaching, and the daylight tends to make you feel even more sluggish. Let us rest; eternity will be waiting for you when you wake.”

They returned to the large four poster bed, to the bloodstained sheets where Mira was reborn just moments ago. Her disturbed and anxious thoughts melted away as she snuggled into the Count, her back to his chest as he encircled her with his long arms. If she could no longer trust in her faith, she would put her trust in him instead.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is keeping well and safe! This was a tough chapter to write, so my apologies for the long delay. I've had some pretty severe writer's block, which is ironic given that none of us can leave the house at the moment... 'Tis a very sexy chapter, and I hope you enjoy. I hope that AO3 is bringing you joy in these very uncertain times, and I wish you all the very best. Thanks for reading!

Agatha awoke with a start, her mouth dry and her skin prickling from the sudden feeling of cold. She had fallen asleep in the library, her head falling back against the lumpy brocade lounge she had curled up on. The book she had been reading had also fallen to the floor, and the once roaring fire was now a dead pile of ashes there in the hearth.   
As her eyes began to adjust, she noticed the afternoon sun as it shimmered and filtered through the gothic windows. She had completely lost track of time, and felt a slight panic settle over her as she realised how much time had passed. What if he had finally killed her? 

Cursing her absentmindedness, she swiftly left the library and navigated the winding halls back to Mira’s bedroom. The door was open a crack, and she eased it open to find Mira and Dracula in a deep slumber, naked and entwined beneath the sheets. Once again, she felt that familiar pang of jealousy hit her squarely in her chest, as it travelled like adrenaline through her veins before becoming a poisonous ash in her mouth. She quietly eased herself away from the door, and began to stride back to the library. 

Mira had told her of that first night, how Dracula had seduced her and taken her to bed. How naive she now felt that she had imagined it to have been a sole occurrence. Surely it was not entirely consensual? She was aware of the vampire’s kiss, and its power as an opiate to sedate and transform its victim into a compliant meal. Mira had become wrapped up in his web, and as fast as Agatha was trying to untangle it, the Count was weaving ever faster. As if to add insult to injury, there was a mysterious part of her that longed to be nestled and wrapped up with him in those very sheets. It was truly absurd. 

As she reached the library doors, she shook away the toxic jealousy and set her mind to one of her great strengths: Research. She combed the library for as many books as she could find on vampirism, the supernatural, on whatever she could get her hands on. Mira’s soul was not yet lost, and so it was up to Agatha to crack the code for how to release them from the vampire’s clutches.

She began to build a fire, and set herself up on the ornate rug with a towering pile of literature. She was careful to scribble little notes as she read, trying to collect as many jigsaw pieces as possible to create a complete picture of the vampiric myths and legends. As the sun began to set, Agatha’s eyes were falling heavy. She felt a gentle caress on her shoulder and she was startled awake. 

“Ssshhh my love, it’s only me,” Mira whispered against her ear. 

“I didn’t even hear you come in! You’ve never snuck up on me before” Agatha joked, turning her head to face Mira, who placed a gentle kiss on her lips. 

“A bit of light bedtime reading, I see?” 

“Something like that… I didn’t want to interrupt, uh… I could see that you were-” Agatha began, and Mira walked around to sit beside her on the ground. She looked forlorn.   
“I’m so sorry, Agatha. I’m here with you now, though.”

“We have only ever existed with each other in the shadows, in secret. It doesn’t feel so foreign to have the dynamic continue here at Carfax Abbey.”

“Agatha, I am yours. I will always be yours. But, it’s complicated... I’m his as well. Isn’t it possible to be both?”

“Not while he’s trying to kill you” Agatha replied flatly. 

Mira went quiet, averting her eyes, and Agatha studied her face carefully. Her blood ran cold as she realised just how pale Mira was, and how the wound on her neck was mysteriously healed. Her eyes travelled down to Mira’s hands which sat gently folded in her lap, and Agatha noticed her long pointed fingernails. 

“No…” Agatha breathed, and Mira looked up at her. 

“I can’t believe it. He finally did it. And you were the successful test subject” she said incredulously, and Mira was crestfallen. 

“Agatha, please don’t... I’m still the same person, aren’t I? I’ll just live a little longer than the average person, and-”

Agatha loud barking laugh cut her off, and she inched away from Mira.

“You’re delusional if you think that. You’re a murderous evil, a bride of the Devil who feeds on the living” she exclaimed, pointing a steady finger at her, and Mira began to weep quietly. 

“Must you be so cruel,” she whispered, wiping her tears.

Agatha faltered slightly, but kept her resolve firm. 

“I promised that I would protect you, and I have clearly failed.” 

Mira edged towards Agatha, and noticed how Agatha’s body tensed in response. It filled her with despair.

“Agatha, I beg you. Please don’t do this. You seem to forget that I have chosen this life. What kind of a death would I have had if I were unable to return to the convent? Murdered in the streets? Beaten by a cruel husband? My choices as a single woman are severely limited… I was offered a second chance and I took it” she reasoned, taking Agatha’s hands into hers. 

“Please don’t leave me. You don’t have to become as we are, I just want you here... Please” she whispered, and Agatha gazed into her eyes. They were more of a honeyed brown than they had been before, as if gentle embers blazed behind them. Mira leaned in to kiss Agatha gently, and Agatha complied. More than anything, she wanted to be with Mira, she had sworn to her that she would stay. The rest could wait. 

Her kisses became more passionate, as she threaded her fingers through Mira’s hair. Mira wound her arm around Agatha’s waist, pulling her close. They quickly undressed, and Mira lowered her body over Agatha’s to press her into the plush rug, the roaring fire casting a golden glow over their naked bodies. Her kisses grew more ardent, as they languidly caressed over each other’s curves. She hungered desperately for Mira’s touch. 

Mira felt a larger hand gently stroking her hair, and she looked up to find the Count kneeling beside her, staring down at the bountiful scene before him. 

“I hope you don’t mind my intrusion” he purred, “but I was drawn to this absolutely mesmerising display… How beautiful you two are together.”

Mira and Agatha exchanged a curious look, but something wicked in Agatha enticed her to continue. The exhibitionism of it made her heart beat rapidly, and she was wet with anticipation. She beckoned Mira with a quick flick of her head, and leaned in to kiss her deeply. They continued their fervent kisses and caresses, as Dracula undressed and lay beside them, stroking himself gently. 

Mira began to kiss her way down Agatha’s body, guided by her little moans and sighs as she went. She spread Agatha’s legs wide and kissed down one thigh and up the other, as her roving mouth came to hover before her entrance. She began to lick idly at first, exploring broadly with the surface of her tongue, before darting the tip expertly across her clitoris. Agatha melted into the sensations, sighing with complete bliss. Mira drove her tongue in deeper, roaming sensuously over her skin, and Agatha moaned and clutched desperately at Mira’s soft curls. 

Mira could feel the Count’s long slender hands caressing her buttocks gently, and she parted her legs, sliding her knees outwards and flat against the rug to expose herself to him. He slid one finger languidly down her skin, starting from the beginning of her arse as it traced down to her slit, before slipping inside to expertly curl and probe within her. He found a particularly sensitive spot and Mira shuddered, continuing her ministrations as she clung to Agatha’s body. 

Before she knew it, she felt him raise her arse higher into the air, as he eased himself inside her to the hilt. He began to move his hips slowly, his long deep thrusts filling her completely, and he pressed in for an extra moment at the end of each one as if savouring the sensation. Mira moaned deeply, and slipped two fingers within Agatha as she swirled her tongue around her clit, sucking and licking avidly. The rhythm of the Count’s thrusts set the same rhythm for Mira’s own movements, and Agatha could feel the climax beginning to build within her, her breathing becoming ragged. She came with complete abandon, gripping Mira’s hair as she twitched and writhed beneath her.

Dracula picked up his speed, both hands gripping Mira’s hips as he fucked her relentlessly. Before long, Mira careened over the edge in complete ecstasy, crying out into Agatha’s slick folds as she revelled in the sweet oblivion that seemed to reverberate, wave after wave of pleasure wracking her body. Dracula pulled out as excruciatingly as he had entered her, and lay on his back. 

“Come, Agatha. I’ve waited a long time for this” he beckoned, and Agatha crawled over to him. He helped her to straddle him, and she lowered herself over his straining cock. She sighed with relief as she was filled completely, and began to gyrate her hips steadily. 

“You too, my darling Mira” he offered, and Mira joined them. He positioned her legs so they straddled his head as she faced Agatha, and she steadied her hands on his abdomen as she gently lowered herself down onto his eager mouth. All at once, he licked her from clit to slit, and Mira cried out in surprise. She could almost feel him smiling wickedly beneath her. His arms circled her thighs to grip her tightly against him, as he slowly traced languid circles around her clit with the tip of his tongue. 

At the same time, he continued to thrust his hips upwards in deep and deliberate movements, and Agatha tipped her head back as a high-pitched moan escaped her. She ran her hands up his body before they came to rest on Mira’s hands, and they locked eyes. Mira leaned forward to kiss Agatha passionately, as they moved their bodies in perfect synchronicity, interlacing their fingers. 

Dracula began to increase his speed and pressure, sliding a single hand beneath Mira to gently thrust his fingers inside her in time with his tongue. Mira could feel the orgasm beginning to build like a crescendo from within, before it hit her with full force, her back arching upwards as she seized with pleasure. He rode it out, refusing to stop or even slow his dancing tongue until she was completely wrung out. 

Once recovered, Mira gently dismounted and came to lay beside Agatha. She reached over and began drawing gentle circles around Agatha’s clitoris, and Agatha moaned with pleasure. Dracula sat up and began to lavish Agatha’s chest with kisses, teasing and pulling at her nipples. Agatha was flushed with arousal, her chest rising and falling raggedly.   
He began to move his hips faster, pulling out and sheathing himself within her over and over, and Agatha began to writhe and moan louder still as she neared climax. Dracula snarled low in his chest, pulling Agatha’s hair to tilt her head back and expose her long slender neck. 

“Now” he growled in a low voice, and his eyes met Mira’s. The whites of her eyes began to shift, the blood red seeping in to pool around her irises, as her fangs grew long and sharp. She licked a trail of fire from Agatha’s collarbone up to her jawline, before biting hungrily into her neck. Agatha gasped in surprise, and Dracula sunk his teeth into the underside of Agatha’s breast. The orgasm hit Agatha all at once, her body betraying her with pleasure in the midst of terror. She felt her muscles locking up as the adrenaline flooded her veins, her eyes staring blindly as she saw stars. It was like the most exquisite fire which consumed her completely.

The two lovers greedily fed from Agatha, before coming to lay her motionless body against the rug; the golden hues of the dying firelight dancing over her pale skin.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath! Some more delicious vamp angst for your weekend.

Agatha stood at the bow of the ship, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the sensation of the wind whipping around her face and hair, and the refreshing smell of sea air. It was a shame it was so overcast, she longed for the feeling of the sun warming her skin. 

“Not long now” she heard a voice call before her. Her skin prickled; she knew it was him before she even laid eyes on him.

She turned to look over her shoulder to find Count Dracula there at the helm, dressed in a crisp white shirt, dark trousers and a waistcoat. He lazily coaxed the ship’s wheel to steer it slightly to the left, and smiled down at her.

“Not long until what? Until you kill me? You vampires always enjoy playing with your food…”

He chuckled to himself, and pulled out a pocket watch from the waistcoat to examine it intently. Flipping it closed, he looked over at Agatha with a wicked grin, his lips pulling back to reveal those long, sharp teeth.

“All things in good time. Not long until we reach the New World, Agatha.”

He looked out at the horizon, and Agatha turned her head in tandem. She could see the vague outline of a shoreline, but could not discern where it was. She turned back to Dracula, her forehead creasing in a deep frown.

“Why are you here?”

Once more, Dracula chuckled to himself, before leaping over the helm with inhuman speed to land in front of Agatha. He towered over her, and Agatha shrunk slightly as he traced a thumb along her jawline, before gripping her face. His long nails dug into her skin painfully, and she winced.

“Because you let me inside, Agatha. You’re mine now.”

\---------------------------------------  
“Mira, enough now. You need to stop.”

Mira was latched on fast to Agatha’s neck, her eyes dilated as she drank from her lover like a greedy child. Dracula growled with irritation, and wrenched Mira away from her.   
“Enough!! You must stop before the heart stops. It won’t do to kill Agatha after all of this time, now will it?”

Mira lay in a daze, covered in Agatha’s blood. She looked over at her as she came to her senses, and noticed how pale and unwell she appeared.

“Is she dead? Did we kill her?” she said in a panicked voice, and scrambled to take Agatha’s pulse.

Dracula sighed, and pulled Mira away from her and into his arms.

“Almost. She’ll need to sleep it off. You should go rest with her; I have a few errands to run this evening.”

Mira looked up at Dracula in confusion.

“You did splendidly, my darling. What a pair we make.”

He kissed her deeply, blood smearing over her mouth and face, before he rose and quickly dressed himself. He sailed out of the library with all of the pageantry of an aristocrat who would claim no responsibility for the woman he had almost killed mere moments ago. 

Mira edged closer to Agatha on all fours, and put her head to her chest. She could hear the shallow breaths rising and falling, which eased the tight feeling of anxiety deep in her stomach.

“Agatha? Can you move at all my love?” she whispered, and rubbed her shoulders.

“MMfffmhh” Agatha groaned, her eyelids fluttering as she dreamed.

Mira lifted Agatha up into her arms, bridal style, and carried her to the bedroom. She cleaned her up and tucked her into the sheets, before going to bathe herself. She sponged away the congealed blood which coated her body, feeling ill at the thought that she had come so close to losing Agatha by her own hand. The old pious Mira would barely recognise the murderous undead Mira from this evening; the creature who sold her soul for eternal life.

She padded back into the bedroom to find Agatha still fast asleep. Mira, however, felt restless and unsettled. She elected instead to return to the piano; pouring her nervous energy into her scales before beginning to play a few pieces from the Count’s decrepit sheet music. She had never lost control like that before. What part of her was so murderous and unhinged that she could do that to Agatha? Had it always been there, lurking just beneath the surface? The questions just kept coming, and she played and played, furiously picking up speed as she tried to forget the events of that evening.

As daylight approached, she began to feel that same sluggish feeling overcome her. She returned to the bedroom, and nestled in beside Agatha, pulling her in close by the waist as she slipped into a deep slumber. 

\-------------------------  
Agatha awoke later that evening, squinting as her eyes took time to adjust as she looked around the room. She finally noticed Mira, who was buried in the blankets and pillows beside her. She gingerly sat herself up in bed and Mira rolled over, her eyes fluttering awake.

“You’re awake! Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure if you would recover” Mira said sleepily, and snuggled into Agatha in a tight embrace.

“Did you- what did we-” Agatha began, rubbing her forehead as if to help recall the events of the night before. She stretched her neck from side to side, and felt the taut tender skin as it pulled. She ran her fingers over the scarred uneven texture, and it finally clicked. 

“You fed from me. You both did, didn’t you?” she said quietly. 

Mira sat up in beside her, looking incredibly guilty. 

“I don’t know what came over me. It was as if I was possessed by him” she explained, her eyes bright with tears. She took Agatha’s hands into her own.

“I promise you Agatha, I will swear to you here and now that I will never feed from you again.”

Agatha smiled. “Not without permission, that is” she replied, and kissed Mira tenderly.

“I think he’s finally back. I can hear him downstairs” Mira said, her face locked in concentration. Agatha stared at Mira, completely gobsmacked by her supernatural hearing which had developed almost overnight. 

Once dressed, the two women descended the grand staircase, Mira supporting Agatha as they walked arm in arm. The Count was seated at the ostentatious dining table, his long legs propped up in a leisurely recline. He was perusing a letter, which he folded and returned to its envelope as he spotted them. 

“Ah, here they are… my beautiful brides. How are you feeling, Agatha?”

Agatha glared at him as they sat down. 

“I feel quite alright. Considering I nearly passed away last night.”

The Count’s face twisted into an imitation of concern, and he swung his legs off the table.

“Well, I don’t know how much fornicating you’ve engaged in prior to yesterday’s exertions, dear Agatha, but I find that it’s so much more fun when there’s a bit of life-and-death involved. Don’t you think?” he said with a wicked smile.

“The fornication I had no problem with – I have a distinct opposition to being someone’s dinner against my will” Agatha retorted, pouring herself a glass of wine.

“Where were you? Last night I mean… Where did you go?” Mira enquired, looking intently at the Count.

“Well if you must know… I went out for a late supper. Nothing against you, Agatha, but I needed something a bit more substantial. A little, _godlier_ , shall we say.”

Agatha and Mira stared at him in confusion, until he chuckled to himself.

“Now now, please don’t hold it against me ladies, but I returned to your old confines at the St Mary’s Convent. One of the younger sisters was kind enough to invite me in, and we enjoyed quite the feast. Or I did, at least.”

Agatha’s heart dropped into her stomach, her eyes brimming with furious tears. She stood up abruptly from her chair, and Mira looked as if she might faint.

“You killed them? But, you said- we made a deal!” Agatha spluttered, her eyes darting frantically between Mira and Dracula.

“Did we? Hmm. I do recall agreeing to take you, and then I couldn’t bear to leave you both behind…” the Count began, but Agatha shook her head.

“Don’t be a complete dunce. You agreed that you would never return to the Convent!” she argued, pointing an accusatory finger at him. 

Dracula’s mouth dropped open in feigned wonderment, his eyebrows raised. 

“Well, I didn’t think that we would have to revisit the argument about me being a man of my word, and yet here we are” he said with a smirk, standing to meet her eye level. His dark eyes narrowed with malice. “I’ve been alive for over 400 years, Agatha. I do what I please, when I so choose to, and I’m in no way beholden to you or your foolish sisters. Pardon me – _ex_ sisters.”

Agatha’s face glowered with fury, and she turned to glare at Mira who sat beside her, dumbfounded, attempting to process this terrible news. Their dear sisters, the women they had built a home with together, were now dead by the hands of a creature who killed purely for sport. It was utterly senseless. 

“How could I have been so foolish to forget… The sophistication of the gentleman is always a veneer” Agatha replied coldly, as she turned and began to stride towards the grand staircase. A snarl appeared at Dracula’s lips, his face briefly contorted with anger, before he composed himself.

“I really hope you can let go of this pesky moral compass of yours before we reach England, Agatha” he called out, and she whipped around to face him.

“What? What on earth are you talking about?”

Mira looked up at Agatha, her eyes filling with tears.

“The New World,” she whispered quietly.

The Count walked around to stand behind Mira’s chair, his hands gripping her shoulders.

“I’ve booked passage to England. We’ll be travelling by ship to Whitby on the Yorkshire coast. From there we’ll travel to my new estate in London, to take in all that the great city has to offer us.” 

Agatha stood in shock, trying to processing this news. 

“But, why? Why would you want to leave here?” 

“Now that I’ve successfully found a way to reproduce, I must now travel onward, so that we may become legion. Our legacy will stretch on into the ages” he declared with a look of pride, and rubbed Mira’s shoulders. She looked as if she were sick with apprehension, anticipating the destruction to come. 

He leant down to give Mira a quick kiss on her cheek, and walked around the table before coming to stand before Agatha. He tenderly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, and she swatted his hand away as if it were a fly. A brief flicker of irritation passed over his face, and he sighed with dismay. 

“Well, have it your way my dearest. There’s always the bottom of the Artzeche River if England is not to your tastes” he said with a chuckle, and he swiftly ascended the staircase and out of sight.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our penultimate chapter: the brides decide between going to London and the promise of an escape, and Agatha makes a promising discovery.

Agatha came to sit beside Mira, and fixed her with an intense stare.

“Tell me honestly; did you know about this?” 

“I’m afraid I did, my love. Dracula mentioned the notion in passing, however I was unaware that it was so near on the horizon” Mira said softly, he eyes filled with sorrow and guilt.  
“It appears your transition has quickened his plans” Agatha replied, and she caressed Mira’s back in gentle circles. 

“He murdered our sisters… the Harkers, too… All of them…” Mira wondered aloud. Her eyes began to fill with tears. 

“He has never been a good man, Mira. Despite his kind words, his deeds say otherwise. Power is the only thing he has ever loved” Agatha replied, pulling Mira into her to kiss the top of her head. 

“We cannot go to England with him. But there’s no way to leave without him knowing. He’d kill us both,” Mira whispered.

“If he sees us that is… Come with me, I have an idea.”

Agatha led Mira through the winding hallways to reach the library once more. After pushing open the large wooden doors, she proceeded to flit across the shelves, picking out book after book, before coming to sit on one of the lounges. She beckoned Mira over. 

“The last time I was here, I set myself a hypothesis to prove or disprove – that Dracula’s fears and habits are most likely a matter of pure superstition rather than genetically predisposed. So many of his fears seemed utterly improbable in the face of all of his other abilities…” 

Mira looked on intently, as Agatha plucked out one of the more ancient looking volumes.

“I found this old book of Greek stories and legends which spoke of the sun deity: ‘As he rides in his chariot, he shines upon men and deathless gods, and piercingly he gazes…’ she read aloud, looking up at Mira expectantly. “ _Deathless gods!_ Dracula was so eager to tell me of how close to God his abilities brought him, I suppose he never took the time to make that connection in his own endless collection of volumes and texts.”

“There was another story here about the demon Lamia, who Hera turned into an immortal monster which sucked the blood of young children. But there’s nothing here which says she was limited to only attacking in the night! I wondered whether she might have had any association with Lilith who left the Garden of Eden, but that’s a research endeavour for another time I suppose...”

Mira looked slightly exasperated.

“Agatha, please! One hypothesis at a time.”

“Alright, I digress… My point being, these creatures, these vampires, seem to have existed long before the Count. More than that, they don’t all seem to be limited to living in the shadows and avoiding the cross.”

Agatha turned to face her, clutching the book tightly to her chest.

“Would you allow me to test my theory, my love?” she enquired innocently.

Mira stared at her in complete disbelief, as if she’d just performed an impromptu backflip.

“Are you mad?? What if I die?”

Agatha scoffed. “Of course, you wouldn’t die, it would only be a momentary exposure. I’ll be here to take care of you should that happen.”

She took Mira’s hands into hers.

“Please, my darling. It would only be for a moment.”

Mira stared at Agatha, then back at the pile of books. She fixated on the image of Lamia; her contorted face covered in the blood of young children of the village. Almost a mirror image of her own transgressions with Agatha from the evening prior.

“Alright. How long until sunrise?”  
\---------------------------------------

They huddled together in the library, drifting in and out of sleep, waiting for the sun to begin its journey across the sky. Mira was terrified that the Count would discover them, but true to form he was far more fixated on his own malevolent errands than the whims of his brides.

Agatha watched the windows carefully, before she saw the sky beginning to slowly change, and the hues of orange and purple began to creep in from the mountains. 

“Quick! Follow me” she whispered, and lead Mira throughout the halls to find that familiar door which lead out to the balcony where Jonathan almost met his end.

She walked out into the crisp early morning air, and turned to find Mira hesitating at the door frame.

“Agatha I… What if I – I don’t want to die,” she stammered.

Agatha let out a sympathetic sigh, and then walked back towards her.

“My beloved… Do you trust me?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Alright. I want you to close your eyes for me. Please, do it now.”

Mira closed her eyes and stood with her arms wrapped around her protectively. Agatha prised them open, and held her hands.

“Excellent. Now, I’d like you to think about one of your favourite moments with me. Think of one of those lovely sunny mornings at the convent, during the springtime.”

Mira hesitated. “Ok…”

“Talk me through it. What were we doing?”

“Ok… We were – It was one of those mornings where we had so many chores to do and we were completely run off our feet. Mother Superior was nagging at us from the high tower” she reminisced with a giggle.

Agatha smiled fondly. “Good, that’s good! What else?” 

“I had to fetch some water from the well, so that we could begin to scrub the kitchen floors. You offered to accompany me so that we could take two pails worth rather than one. It was one of those perfect spring mornings – we walked to the western end of the convent, and the breeze was so light with just a hint of chill in the air as the winter was passing. You could smell the new flowers as they bloomed, those lovely violets and the jonquils too. The sun was shining down so fiercely…”

As Mira talked, Agatha began to walk her slowly out from the shadowy door frame.

“We got to the top of the hill, and we sat there in the grass and looked out at the nearby village. You were picking flowers and threading them together in a chain, I was never very good at that…”

Agatha caressed Mira’s face lightly, running her fingers along her jawline.

“And then what did I do?”

Mira smiled, her eyes still closed, her face a beatific picture of happiness.

“Then you kissed me” she replied breathlessly, and Agatha leaned in to kiss her sweetly.

When she pulled away, Mira opened her eyes. The golden glare of the rising sun made her heart leap into her throat, and she immediately gripped the balcony’s edge in terror.  
“Mira, please! Stop! You’re not burning, are you?” Agatha pleaded.

She rose and took a moment to compose herself, holding her arms out in front of her to examine them. No pain, no burning flesh. She looked out onto the horizon, and raised a hand to protect her eyes from the glare as they began to adjust. The mountain ranges were soaked in those familiar hues of glowing gold, pink and indigo. The trees were just visible as the snow had begin to melt away. She lowered her arm and closed her eyes, basking in the delicious warmth of the sunshine; something she thought she would never experience again.

Agatha’s smile beamed as brightly as the rising sun.

“So that’s it – the rules of the beast are a myth. Superstitions that became legends that became real. Completely fascinating.”

Mira turned to Agatha, her smile lighting up her entire face.

“I think we’ve just found our way out.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We have now arrived at the end... I'll be honest, I wanted to do a lot more with this story, I really did. I've had terrible writers block these last few weeks, and it's a struggle just to exist day to day at the moment, let alone pull enough creative juices to write a decent story. This last chapter is cliched and a let down, but it's about as much as I can manage right now. I hope I've done our characters proud and you've enjoyed reading. Much love to you all, please stay safe. 
> 
> Also, the London home is inspired by one of my favourite historical houses, Two Temple Place: https://www.timeout.com/london/attractions/two-temple-place

**13th of May, 1948**

_Dear Jack,_

_It greatly warms my heart to hear from you._

_What marvellous news to hear of your admission to medical school! I have no doubt that you will apply yourself with great determination and intelligence. I only wish I could be there to compete with you and test my knowledge in those hallowed halls, however I think those young doctors would have a heart attack at the notion of a woman even deigning to open a text book. Alas, I’ll settle for private lessons with you over a strong cup of tea._

_Thank you for the offer of your grandmother’s cello – Mira was absolutely thrilled at the opportunity to add to her growing collection. At this rate she will require an entirely new music room, however the fault is as much mine for indulging her whims. Lately she’s been devouring all manner of books on mechanical engineering, no doubt inspired by all of those brilliant women working on the home front. After all this time together, she still manages to surprise me._

_Please give my love to Elizabeth, and a kiss to baby Jack._

_With all my very best,_

_Agatha_

Agatha quietly folded the letter and slid it into an envelope, sealing it with a simple wax seal. She left the letter on the dark oak bureau, and began to tidy the precarious piles of books and papers. Jack Seward, a very old friend, had been instrumental in helping Agatha and Mira to set themselves up here in London. She would be forever indebted to the Sewards for their generosity and kindness.

Agatha reflected back on their escape from Carfax Abbey all those years ago. For many days they had wandered through the woods, before finding a sympathetic carriage driver to take them through to the Borgo Pass. They crossed on foot into Hungary, and settled into the Hungarian countryside in a tiny nondescript farmhouse just outside of Budapest for some time. When global tensions began to rise and the world around them started to change, they made a swift exit and buried themselves deep in the Swiss Alps. Their journey had not been without its struggles, but they were grateful to have each other.

Upon their arrival in London, Agatha and Mira spent months tracking down any descendants of the Harkers, to inform them of Jonathan and Mina’s demise. To their surprise and absolute relief, they found them both alive and well in Belsize Park, clearly having set sail back to England just in time to avoid the massacre at the convent. Agatha was hesitant to reach out to them, fearing that it may once more put their lives in jeopardy at the hands of a vengeful Count Dracula. She was especially resistant to disclose to anyone that she and Mira were technically now brides of the Count.

After many years of heated debate and reflection, Mira had finally agreed to turn Agatha. Ever the science enthusiast, Agatha documented and detailed every aspect of the transformation, hypothesising over every cellular change and each new ability that emerged. The night that Agatha was reborn as a vampire was one that would be forever etched in her memory, and yet she could hardly remember what her life was like before it.

Agatha turned out the lights, and exited into the vaulted hallway of their grand London home, adorned with ornate cedar panels and gothic carvings. How strange it was to find themselves here in London, in the very place they had fought so hard to avoid so long ago. Post-war London had a peculiar feel; the city was deep in reconstruction efforts following the widespread damage caused by the Blitz, and yet pockets felt untouched by the devastation of the war and reminiscent of the last century. 

The house that Agatha and Mira had settled into was nestled in one of these pockets – a beautiful Renaissance-style home in the Temple district, one which Dr Seward sourced and which came from a long line of esteemed owners. It was easily the grandest home they had stayed in, especially compared to their prior residences.

As she walked the halls, she listened out for Mira. She could hear distant sounds of splashing, which she followed to the opposite end of the house.

“Is that a dolphin I hear? I didn’t realise they migrated as far as the Thames” she called out, and heard Mira laugh gaily in the distance. 

Agatha pushed open the door to find Mira floating giddily in an almost overflowing bath. The claw footed tub had been used almost exclusively by Mira since they had moved in.   
“Mira, if you flood this beautiful house, I will never forgive you.”

Mira sank deeper under the water, until only her mischievous eyes were just visible above the surface as her dark hair floated around her. Agatha sighed with a weary smile. It never got old, no matter how many decades passed.

Mira bobbed up to the surface. “One cannot be weightless without a full tub of water, as I’m sure you’re well aware!” she countered, squeezing the water from her hair.   
Agatha looked on fondly.

“How could I ever deny you, my darling mermaid… Now, I’m about to head out to pick up some more vials of blood from the hospital, Jack said he would leave some for us.”  
Mira wrinkled her nose. Agatha frowned in response.

“I know the anticoagulant is not to your tastes, but it’s a great deal tastier than the clotted mess of blood pudding that we’d be drinking without it. Now, will you be alright here?”

“Of course, my love. Once I’m done soaking, I’ll take some time to practice – I can’t wait until the cello arrives…” 

Agatha kissed her head with a smile, and exited swiftly.

Mira sank back into the steaming bathwater, feeling grateful for all she had. Her journey with Agatha had been a long and difficult one, but she wouldn’t take any of it back. Sometimes she wondered what kind of a monster she would have become without Agatha there to support her. 

She felt a twinge of déjà vu as she reflected back on the night she was reborn; curled up in the tub as the Count washed away her old life to start anew in the darkness. Their ban on hunting humans mostly helped to quell her darker inclinations, but the desire to hunt still lurked beneath the surface. It set her skin alight, like a fever.

Worse still, the Count haunted her dreams on occasion. It was always faint; she would never see him but she could feel him, feel his dark commanding presence in her dream environments. It was as if he were trying to tune a radio to find her exact frequency, but it was always fuzzy. She could never disclose this to Agatha, of course, but it always lingered at the back of her mind.

Mira drained the tub and towelled off her body, wrapping herself in a long floral dressing gown. Sometimes she almost missed him, but wasn’t sure if it was true affection or the remnants of his control over her. The only thing she could really trust was her relationship with Agatha; it tethered her to reality and to her calmer instincts. It was all she had and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.   
\--------------------------------

Agatha pulled on her winter coat and gloves, and fluffed up her hair. She missed wearing it long, but the tight curls twisted into soft victory rolls did suit her quite fashionably. She pinned in a maroon beret and admired her reflection in the mirror. Her mouth curled into a smile; she did not miss the wimple one bit.

Agatha pulled back the curtains from the window to observe the weather outside, and noticed a dark shadowy figure standing across the road. Her skin prickled, and she stared at the figure. She could feel the unease settling in… She knew it was him. 

Dracula stepped into the light of the streetlamps. Although he was dressed in modern fashions, there was no mistaking his imposing height and slicked back dark hair. He stared up at the window and smirked. Agatha’s fangs instinctively grew long, and she snarled. She would defend this house with her very life. 

To her complete surprise, Dracula tipped his hat and began to walk away.

_“Relax, Agatha”_ she heard him murmur in her mind. _“I’ve no business with you or your darling lover. That time has long since passed. I did love you, you know. Both of you. I’ll never quite understand why you left me.”_

Agatha quivered with fear and adrenaline, as she gripped the windowsill for support. “Liar,” she whispered.

_“You’ll never be able to truly resist your base instincts, you know. It lies within you, within all of us. Blood is lives, Agatha. Understand that, and you’ll understand the key to immortality. When you wish to discover your true nature, the beast that lies within, I’ll be waiting.”_

Agatha almost felt the weight of him leaving her mind, and she slumped against the wall. She took a moment to compose herself, focusing on the distant sounds of Mira practising her scales on the violin. A calm determination settled over her, and she strode back to the study, whipping off her winter coat to sit at her desk. It was time to write a letter to the Harkers.


End file.
